Celebrations
by Hekate1308
Summary: It's very easy to forget what day of the week it is, which the schedule she has. Or rather, the one she doesn't have. Sherlock/Sally, part of my ongoing universe.


**Author's note: It's my birthday, here, have a Sherlock/Sally birthday fic.**

**Have a wonderful day!**

It's very easy to forget what day of the week it is, which the schedule she has. Or rather, the one she doesn't have.

Before, she couldn't keep track of the date because every day was the same, only the suspects changed. Now, she easily doesn't realize what day it is because every day is different. She goes to work, she calls Sherlock, they run around London, they have coffee a few steps away from a crime scene because they haven't seen much of each other for a few days and Greg insists, she visits him at St. Bart's and moves body parts of shelves in the fridge at 221B without batting an eyelid, Mrs. Hudson calls her to ask where the boys are, Mike Stamford makes small talk with her, Molly and her have a girl's night out, she meets her sister, she takes a few hours for herself and reads, and it's never quite the same but always fun, and she looks at her calendar from time to time and is surprised how many weeks have passed.

Next Wednesday, however, is a day that she cannot forget. She will be 35 next Wednesday.

Her and Sherlock have been together for over ten months now. His birthday in January passed almost unnoticed – they were on the trail of a serial killer – but she did insist on buying him a cake and getting him more body parts from Molly. He didn't say much, but he didn't complain, and his eyes lit up.

She wonders if he knows it's her birthday next week. They have never talked about it. She's sure he knows how old she is, but that's about it.

She isn't sure if she should tell him. It's not like it means much to her, but it has been a long time since she's had a significant other to celebrate with, and she would like to with him.

Sherlock is not the man to do what he doesn't want to, and she doesn't know how she would feel if she told him and he decided her birthday wasn't worth celebrating. He celebrated Christmas, didn't he? So he should think –

She decides that she will tell him. There is no reason not to. She'll casually mention it to know where she stands. And if he doesn't want to spend the day with her, if he doesn't believe it special, even though it is – even after 35 years on the planet, she still feels it is – she'll draw the consequence. Make certain where this relationship stands.

When he's kneeling next to a body, she tells him. Or rather, she mentions it in a half-sentence, after she has summarized the witness' statement.

It's not exactly normal, but nothing in her life is anymore.

He replies to the statement first, of course, and they discuss what it means while John examines the body.

Then, right before he dashes off because he has an idea, he asks, "Will you be spending it with your sister?"

She is used to his abrupt changes of topic.

"I'm working" she says. "I'll be out by six, though". She doesn't have to mention that this will only happen if nothing unexpected occurs and that, if it does, it will be Greg's doing because he wants her to enjoy her birthday. Sherlock knows all of this, but he wants to know that she is free, or at least that's what she thinks, and she says it as casually as she can. If he replies the same way because it means nothing to him, it will be easier to bear.

He nods.

"Good".

He runs off with the one word, and she tries not to be hurt. What does "Good" mean? Does he think she will go to her sister and not bother him?

"Somebody has something planned, I see" Greg says behind her, and she turns around.

He frowns when he sees her face.

She gives him a weak smile and gets back to work. Does Greg believe –

It doesn't matter what Greg believes. She'll know soon enough.

Her sister invites her, of course. Judy would never allow her to spend her birthday alone, and when she admits that she has no plans yet, her older sister is silent. She can feel her concern, though, and that might be worse.

The week to her birthday drags by – for the first time since Sherlock returned and she let go of the guilt, a week drags by. She meets her friends, she reads, she laughs, but she doesn't talk much to Sherlock. He's busy. She doesn't know with what.

On Monday, she admits to herself that she will go to her sister on Wednesday. On Tuesday, when she realizes she hasn't seen her boyfriend in days, she admits to herself that he might not be her boyfriend much longer.

On Wednesday, when she leaves the Yard, she admits to being surprised when she sees Sherlock waiting for her.

Next to one of Mycroft's limousines.

The elder Holmes doesn't come out, and she doesn't realized that he isn't there at all until Sherlock opens the door and motions for her to get in. He's not smiling, if anything, he looks nervous, but his eyes look so lo – his eyes look soft and happy, and she gets in, her heart fluttering in her chest.

Sherlock doesn't like asking Mycroft for anything. He doesn't like asking anyone for anything. But he must have asked for the limousine. She wonders what it cost him. Probably an assurance that he would work the next few cases Mycroft handed him without a complaint.

They sit next to each other wordlessly, but she takes his hand and squeezes it, and when he looks at her, he smiles.

She smiles too, happy for the first time in a week.

She only notices where they are when they leave the limousine.

She looks at the gate of the cemetery she thought Sherlock was buried in.

No one else would think it romantic, but she does. The place they met – in the way that matters, at least.

When she turns around, she sees a table with candles on it, Angelo standing next to it, smiling.

He brought the cook of his favourite restaurant to the first place that comes to mind when she thinks about their relationship.

She can't speak. She looks at him and tries to tell him through her eyes what this means to her. He understands.

Angelo withdraws after putting her favourite dish on the table, and she looks up and Sherlock is beautiful in the candle light, and she is happy, so happy she thinks her heart would burst if that was anatomically possible. She's apparently picked up some things from Sherlock.

They make small talk, tell each other about their week. He was busy – not only with planning this, but with cases for Gregson and Dimmock besides the ones he solved with Greg – and she realized he simply forgot to call her. She shouldn't have drawn conclusions. She's too happy to feel ashamed, though.

After they have finished dessert, he brings her a simple box out of the limousine.

Inside, there is a CD as well as pages full of notes. Her heart beats faster.

_Music for Sally Donovan_

_Number 1 – Late Night Sonata_

_Number 2 – Anniversary Surprise_

_Number 3 – Light In The Dark_

And so on.

He has composed song after song for her, and she feels like crying, but instead she kisses him.

He clears his throat.

"It is customary that, on special occasions, one should tell – "

She wants to stop him. He doesn't have to. She knows how he feels about her, he doesn't have to say it.

But he continues.

He looks her in the eyes and says simply, "I love you, Sergeant Sally Donovan".

It is at the same time fortunate and unfortunate that they are in public, because she can't kiss him as passionately as she wants to. She makes the best of what she can do before replying, "I love you, too".

It's the first time they have said it – not an _I am in love with you _or _I reciprocate your feelings_, but _I love you. _

He brings her back to Baker Street. Their friends are there, John and Molly and Mycroft and Greg and Mrs. Hudson and Mike Stamford and they throw a party.

She stays the night, of course.

She forgot to turn off silence on her mobile phone after she left the Yard, and there are several missed calls and texts from her sister. She sees them after Sherlock has fallen asleep, and since it's too late to call, she sends a quick _At Sherlock's _and lies down next to him.

If this is what her birthdays will be like, she is already looking forward to her next.

**Author's note: Happy Birthday Fic! I wanted to write fluff because I am happy, and I hope I made others happy as well. **


End file.
